


Many Happy Returns

by darkpartofmydestiny



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkpartofmydestiny/pseuds/darkpartofmydestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah is alone on her 21st birthday. Standing on a bridge in London, she makes a wish. Someone wants to wish her a Happy Birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why. - William Barclay

Sarah sat on the edge of the uncomfortable sofa bed, trying desperately to wake up. It was the morning of her twenty first birthday, and she was spending it in her mother's living room in London. The room was perfectly nice, but the sofa was old and creaky and hurt her up with a back ache was a sure fire way of making you feel much older than you were. Her mother was still asleep, alone after a huge fight with Jeremy. What a way to mark becoming an adult (in America at least), listening to your step father scream that you're an inconvenience. Sarah thought back over the past few years.

Sarah had spent a lot of time alone lately, thinking and writing. She no longer wanted to act; that particular career path held no appeal for her now she had seen the life her mother led. She loved to write, and she had filled dozens of notebooks with fevered scribbles over the years. When she read them back, they all shared a similar theme. It was something that frustrated her, made her throw the books against the wall in anger. The notebooks were all filled with tales of the Underground, of goblins, dwarves, things she didn't even know the name of. She was happy to remember those things, and invent fun stories involving the silly creatures - but lately, it wasn't childish tales of Hoggle and Ludo that filled the pages. Instead, there was line after line of not entirely innocent prose about their King. In fact, some of the stuff she had written about him was downright indecent.

Jareth had entered her mind in a way she could never have predicted. He consumed her dreams, her fantasies, her desires. It unsettled her deeply - he had stolen her brother, tried to kill her on several occasions, and had stalked her disguised as a woodland creature for God's sake! That was not a healthy way to begin a relationship in any world, surely, magical or not. A classic case of Stockholm Syndrome is what a therapist would say, Sarah was sure of it. She barely knew him, but his overpowering sexuality was something that she couldn't ignore. She hadn't met anybody like him, before or since, who made her want to rip her clothes off just at the sound of his voice. There had been several mornings in the last couple of years where she had woken drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, haunted by dreams where she was his queen, in every sense of the word.

In the six years since her thirteen hours in the Labyrinth, she had seen her friends a few times. Jareth had even made an appearance once, to demand that they all returned to the Labyrinth as there was work to be done. Once all the creatures had dispersed, he had hung around and made idle chit chat and Sarah was shocked to find that his company was enjoyable. The casual conversation became more serious, and he had stayed until sunrise, just talking to her. He inquired about her life, what she did with her time, how she felt. At first she had been hostile, but he had made her feel..she wasn't sure. At ease was too strong, and so was comfortable, but he made her feel like she..mattered. Yes, that was it.

Jareth hadn't come to her again, and for a while this had utterly devastated her. He had made her feel important at a time when she felt she didn't matter at all. Hoggle and the others still visited her, but her frustration at missing Jareth had caused her to push them away. Hoggle popped in every now and then, but only to check she was alright. She felt angry at herself for spoiling a special friendship because of unfounded resentment towards their King. After a while, Sarah had pulled herself together and stopped wanting Jareth to come back. She stopped looking for owls in the night sky or resting in trees. He wasn't coming back.

Now, Sarah had finally grown up. She had flown to London to visit her mother in a vague attempt to bury the hatchet between them. Linda was appearing in a production of Hamlet as Ophelia, a part Sarah personally thought she was much too old to play. Their relationship had been strained for several years, and as Sarah had grown up she no longer idolised her mother in the blind way she had as a fifteen year old. Instead she saw her for what she was; the woman who abandoned her young daughter for the sake of fame and a man.

Linda had achieved both her goals; she was now a highly successful actress of stage and screen, critically acclaimed and loved by audiences. She had been admired by her young daughter for all the years she had been away, though there had been minimal effort on her part to stay in touch with Sarah. Sarah had eventually grown tired of desperately clinging to her mother, trying to make her love her, trying to make her stay. When Sarah had turned sixteen and there hadn't been so much as a birthday card in the mail, she had started to see her mother's true colours, and the relationship soured after that. Sarah had doubted that Linda even noticed her daughter had stopped calling and writing. After a few months, there had been a few attempts on Linda's side to win her daughter's affection back. Perhaps she missed the blind adoration that boosted her ego.

Jeremy was still in the picture, although Sarah had gotten the impression that he was annoyed at her presence in at their home London (mainly because he had said so in that fight last night). Sarah had planned to stay for at least a month, having nothing to do after leaving college, and this had greatly irritated him. They had gotten on well when she was younger, but the relationship between him and Linda wasn't good and Sarah was an easy target for his resentment, she supposed. He was out most of the time, returning in the early hours of the morning. Sarah had laid awake on the sofa for the past week, listening as her mother and Jeremy argue in hushed voices. Every night, the hushed voices would become less and less so, until it developed into full on yelling. Occasionally Jeremy would storm out, and Sarah would squeeze her eyes shut as she tried not to listen to her mother cry. The next morning, Linda would force a bright smile and act as though nothing had happened. She certainly was an actress. Sarah had grown irritated with her constant performance, and longed to truly see her mother, rather than the role Linda felt she had to play.

Sarah got dressed, brushed her teeth and waited for her mother to wake up. Linda stumbled in to the living room/kitchen area, looking like shit and apparently feeling like it too, as she ran to the bathroom and threw up. Sarah sighed - no chance of birthday fun today.

Sarah had excused herself that morning, saying that she wanted to go explore London on her own. Linda had been hungover and wallowing in her own self pity in bed, and merely waved Sarah away. Grabbing her bag and a wad of cash that her mother had left out for her, she went for a walk. She was no stranger to London; she had even spent a year studying there when she was nineteen, before dropping out this year. Her mother hadn't been there then, Linda and Jeremy had been in LA for the whole year so Sarah didn't see her at all. Sarah loved London; the history, the culture - even the weather didn't bother her, though she had been caught in downpours more than once. She had moved away when she was twenty to finish her course back home, but she had dropped out in her final year, much to the bitter disappointment of her father. Her father had been disdainful of her choice to study creative writing, and then when she dropped out - well, that certainly put their relationship under strain. She had told him she was still writing but hated college so much that she couldn't stay anymore. Clearly the idea that his eldest child could make a living out of writing hadn't even occurred to him. Things had been going quite well for her, with short stories she had written appearing in magazines every now and then. She was hoping for a book deal in the future, and had submitted several manuscripts involving a powerful King.

Sarah wandered through London for hours, popping in and out of sweet little shops and walking for miles. Walking calmed her greatly, and today she was feeling particularly unhappy. It was her twenty first birthday, and her mother had completely forgotten, too wrapped up in her own never ending relationship drama. The time difference meant that her father would call late that evening, after he had finished work, so she had nobody to wish her well. Cards would be waiting for her back in the States, but right now nobody even cared it was her birthday. Sarah stopped walking at her favourite bridge, Westminster Bridge. From here, you could see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, as well as St Paul's Cathedral in the distance. It was four pm, and the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. It wasn't dark yet, but lights from the surrounding buildings were coming on, making the city sparkle. Sarah felt lucky to be here, in her favourite city, but she wished that she wasn't alone.

"I wish somebody loved me enough to be here with me right now." She muttered under her breath. Sighing, she walked over to the rail of the bridge and stared out into the city, watching the water race down the river.

"Happy birthday to me.." Sarah sang quietly to herself, staring over the bridge into the murky waters of the River Thames. "Happy birthday to me.."

"Happy birthday dear Sarah.." A voice sang into her ear, and she screamed. She knew exactly who was standing behind her, a little too close, and she was reluctant to turn to face him.

"You startled me Jareth." She said calmly, trying to hold her nerve. She used his name for the first time to his face, although she had always referred to him as such to Hoggle. She thought that if she addressed him as "Goblin King" she would sound ridiculous and frightened. To her surprise, she felt no fear. Instead, she felt something jump within her that she desperately tried to ignore. "I didn't think you were the type to sing Happy Birthday." She told him, and he moved from behind her to stand against the rails next to her. She refused to turn her head to look at him, but she could see in her field of vision that he was staring straight out over the river.

"I thought I would make an exception for you, precious thing. Many happy returns." His voice was rich and smooth, a lilt of humour running through it. She turned, finally, to look at him. He was wearing normal clothes, his long hair gone and cut close to his head with a longer bit on the top. His eye markings had vanished, though he did have missing patches in his eyebrows. To look at him, he was the same as any other man on the street. His eyes were still unusual, and his grin was positively predatory.

"You look different." She said, and he laughed. He turned towards her, leaning against the bridge's rails easily. He looked so relaxed, and entirely different to how he had been all those years ago in his Labyrinth. Even when he had appeared in her bedroom a few years ago, he had still been regal and arrogant.

"I thought the cape and the breeches might make me stand out a little, love. I believe this," he gestured to the denim jacket he was wearing "is a little more the current style." Sarah blushed a little when he spoke about his breeches - she had certainly thought about the tight trousers he had worn on more than one occasion.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, and he smiled at her predictable question.

"I hate the thought of a wonderful girl like you being alone on her birthday." Sarah scoffed at him, turning back out to look at the river.

"Funny, I didn't think you cared that much. Shouldn't you be stealing someone's baby right now instead of worrying whether or not I have a good birthday?" Sarah said bitterly. He had some nerve, turning up here when she hadn't even called him here. You wanted him here a voice in her head reminded her. You've always wanted him here.

"Come Sarah, I'm not the monster you think I am. I play a part, I am the Goblin King. I do as I am bid - you were the one who wished the child away, after all. I did not make you do so, but you did." He spoke as if talking to a simpleton, slowly and deliberately. "What's said is said, after all."

"I won him back." Sarah said defensively and Jareth nodded, grinning. Sarah looked at his mouth, and thought that his crooked fangs made him look like a lion about to pounce.

"Indeed you did. You defeated my Labyrinth, I have no power over you." He said, his voice light and slightly mocking. "Trust me, dear girl, I haven't forgotten. It's been six years - surely you've forgiven me now, Sarah? No hard feelings and all that."

"Why would I forgive you? You tried to kill me, you drugged me! I think I'm allowed some hard feelings!" She pointed out, and Jareth shrugged. He was so smug, Sarah thought. He really did know it all.

"Nonsense, Sarah. I would never have killed you. I was merely following how the story was meant to play out. I have my part to play, after all. The Labyrinth demands a little showmanship." Sarah thought about what he said for a moment, until realisation struck her.

"So..you knew I would win?" Sarah asked him, hands on her hips and a victorious look in her eyes.

"Ah." He said, a small smile tugging at his lips at her superior stance. "Not exactly. You weren't meant to win, but you were never going to die. If you must know, I planned on keeping your young Toby as my heir, as I'm not yet married and have no plans to be. You were supposed to return above, with no memories of the child."

"So if I'd lost, I'd have no memory of Toby at all." He's not married! Her mind screamed at her. Like that even mattered.

"That was the plan," Jareth explained. "As you progressed through the Labyrinth, I rather fancied keeping you." Jareth crept his hand over hers, covering her small hand with his larger one. Sarah wondered if this was his misguided attempt at flirting with her.

"Keeping me?" Sarah said in outrage, slapping his hand away. "I'm not a stray dog, Jareth. You can't just go around 'keeping' teenage girls." She did quotation marks with her fingers. "It's got a name in my world, same as what you did to Toby. Kidnapping?" She reminded him, though she didn't sound as angry as he had expected. The situation was ridiculous; she was standing on a bridge in London talking to a man she knew was King of a bunch of Goblins in a land nobody knew existed. People walked past as though nothing strange was happening, and it made Sarah want to scream with laughter.

"It isn't required that a runner is returned Above if they lose, you know Sarah. That's at my own discretion. Keeping you would have violated no rules, it would have been seen as simply claiming my prize. My most precious treasure." His voice was soft, and she stared into his eyes for what felt like minutes but was more like seconds. His unsymmetrical pupils were hypnotizing, especially when he was staring at her so intently. She tore her eyes away from his, trying to keep a level head. She was not some cliche chick in a crappy movie who was going to swoon just because some jackass with nice eyes said his right words.

"Well, I'm not some trophy to be won Jareth, so I'm sorry your prize wouldn't play along. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going." Sarah turned to leave, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. She looked up at him, not saying a word, hardly breathing. He smelled like wood smoke and sage, and being so close to him made her a little dizzy.

"You wouldn't have been a trophy." He said quietly, avoiding her gaze but still clinging to her arm. "You would have been my Queen. My wife." The world around them seemed to fall away, and it was just the two of them standing on that bridge. Sarah felt her breath catch in her chest, as she stared at him yet again. His being here overwhelmed her, and his unexpected, and rather heartfelt, confessions had caught her entirely off guard.

"Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." Sarah parroted his words back to him, perhaps rather more harshly than she had intended. He released her arm as though it had burned him and leaned back against the wall as though nothing had happened. "I was fifteen," she reminded him "not exactly in a hurry to get down the aisle."

"That's true. Fifteen is a little young, especially by Underground standards." Sarah wondered how old he was; from what Hoggle had told her, the Fae could live indefinitely if uninjured. "How old are you now?" He asked lightly, the uncomfortable atmosphere between them lifting a little.

"You remember my birthday but not my age? That must be why you didn't get me a card." She teased. "Twenty one. The big one. Well, not over here, I guess. I've been able to drink here since I was eighteen."

"I know. I've heard stories of your drunken escapades from our friend Toggle."

"Hoggle." She corrected him automatically, and then what he said hit her. "Wait, what? Hoggle told you about me getting drunk?" She made a mental note to torture Hoggle slowly and painfully the next time she saw him.

"Yes, yes. Something about a bottle of vodka and a table?" Sarah cringed as she remembered dancing on a table in some dingy Soho bar clutching a bottle of vodka. She had told Hoggle about that whilst in a hungover state, and she never expected him to report it to the freaking King. Surely Kings had more important things to worry about than what she chose to do with her Friday nights.

"Um, yeah. That's happened before. Anyway, my mom's expecting me back so.."

"Let me take you out for dinner." He asked her, desperate to keep her with him. She looked at him for a moment, mulling the offer over. He stared at her with searching eyes. "We can celebrate your birthday properly then. I do believe birthday dinners are somewhat customary."

"Thanks but my mom has plans for me later I think." Sarah hoped that her body language wouldn't give away her lie. Her mom had a show tonight, and anyway she didn't even realise what day it was.

"Won't she be performing tonight? I've seen many reviews for Linda Williams in Hamlet. Apparently she's quite good." Sarah raised an eyebrow at him.

"You read the mortal newspapers?"

"You'd be surprised at what I do in my spare time, Sarah. Really you know very little about me. I know so much about you, wouldn't you like to level the playing field? Aren't you even a little curious about me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. She was curious about him, she wanted to know everything about him, she wanted to see everything..

"Fine. I suppose if I don't say yes you'll just follow me around and bug me until I do."

"I have better things to do with my time than follow around a woman who doesn't wish to know me, Sarah. Believe it or not, I do have a Kingdom to run. I would enjoy spending time with you on your birthday, that's all. I'm not going to steal you away to the Underground and ravish you. You needn't be so concerned."

I wish! You could ravish me all you want! Sarah cursed her inner voice for saying everything she wanted to suppress.

"Good to know. I suppose we could go for dinner around eight. Shall I book a table somewhere? Wait, do you even eat?" She realised that she'd never seen him eat - not surprising really, because as he'd rightly pointed out, she hardly knew him.

"No need. I will arrange the venue. And yes, Sarah. I eat. I'm the Goblin King, not a ghost." He said sarcastically, making Sarah feel like an idiot.

"Well, okay then. Where should I meet you?"

"Meet me here, at eight o'clock tonight. Is that convenient?" Sarah did some quick calculations about how quickly she could get home, shower, change and get back here. She nodded in agreement, and she smiled. She liked the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. He looked less like a hungry lion and more like the Cheshire Cat.

"Wonderful. Well then, I shall see you then." She nodded dumbly, unsure what to say, feeling completely overwhelmed. He lifted her hand and raised it to his lips. He placed the softest kiss over her knuckles, then walked away without a second glance. Sarah's eyes followed him as he mixed with the crowds using the bridge and suddenly - he was gone.

Sarah turned back to the railings, and couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, the words she had said before he appeared echoed in her mind.

"I wish somebody loved me enough to be here with me right now."


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah called in to a clothing shop on her way to the tube station. The money her mother had left out for her was burning a hole in her pocket, and Sarah decided that she may as well buy herself a birthday present if nobody else was going to. Flicking through the racks, she wondered what the dress code would be. There were lots of pretty dresses, and Sarah chose a knee length black dress with long sleeves. It had some kind of sparkly overlay, and Sarah thought it looked as though someone had made a dress out of the night sky. She hadn't really brought any formal clothes with her to London, and she wanted to look nice for her date.

No. Not a date, she told herself. A birthday meal with a friend. Could you call someone you'd only met twice a friend, she wondered, particularly when one of those times was spent trying to stop him stealing your baby brother? She wasn't sure.

Sarah took her starry dress into the changing room, stripping down to her underwear and trying it on. It was high necked and loose fitting, apart from the tight sleeves. Despite it's slouchy fit, Sarah felt more beautiful wearing this dress than she had in a long time. She got changed back into her baggy jeans and felt a little deflated after wearing such a beautiful piece of clothing. She took the dress to the cashier, and chose a matching pair of strappy sandals to go with the dress. It may have been October, but Sarah was determined that she should feel special on her birthday. Handing over a considerable amount of the money her mother had given her, Sarah left the store and headed home.

Seeing him again had unsettled her. Being around him was just as intoxicating as it had always been, his rich voice and playful arrogance attracting her to him like a - no. I am not a moth, and he is certainly no flame. Over the years, she had dismissed her thoughts about him as a stupid crush. She really didn't know him, as he had pointed out. That night they had spent in her room had mainly been about her, but she remembered the tender way he had looked at her, and even wiped away a tear when she had started to cry.

He loves you.

No, he doesn't.

You said "I wish someone loved me enough to be here right now" and two seconds later he was by your side.

Coincidence. If he loves me so much, where has he been for the last three years, huh?

Her inner voice had nothing to say to that. As she made the journey back to her mother's flat, Sarah let herself remember the last time she had seen him.

It was late January 1989. She was in London, having cocoa with Hoggle and a few goblins in her dingy student flat. It was leaky, cold and in a terrible area but it was all she had been able to afford. Having the company of her Underground friends made it a little more bearable, but she was struggling to adjust to living in a strange company and didn't have many human friends. She was sitting cross legged on her bed, wearing a baggy tshirt and pyjama shorts, watching as the goblins hit each other with pillows. Suddenly, there was a loud crack of thunder and Sarah jumped, spilling her cocoa and screaming as the hot liquid hit her bare legs. She stared in disbelief as the Goblin King appeared in her bedroom, standing with his hand on his hips just as he had before, but without the sparkly cape. Sarah tried to clean up the mess on her lap, ignoring him.

"I'm sorry to have startled you Sarah." Jareth didn't sound sorry at all, and Sarah looked up from dabbing at her legs with her quilt to see him standing by her mirror. "I merely came to retrieve my subjects, as there is much work to be done." His voice was hard, and Sarah tried not to giggle at the sounds of panic that surrounded her. The creatures visiting her hurried and said their goodbyes and all darted through the mirror quickly.

"You certainly terrify them." She told him, her voice a little shaky. She hadn't seem him for three years, and had heard very little about what he had been doing since she'd left the Labyrinth. She wondered if he hated her for defeating him and rejecting his offer to stay with him. She didn't feel afraid of him, and his presence there didn't really intimidate her - if anything, it intrigued her. She had often wondered about the Goblin King, and had even found herself wishing that he would pay her a visit. Here he was, looking exactly the same as he had done three years ago.

"Hardly. They have all been so lazy lately I'm worried that I've lost my touch." He said, smirking. "I believe they have been preoccupied Above."

"I'm sorry, that's my fault. They've been visiting me a lot more often than they used to. I guess I've been feeling a little homesick." Sarah admitted, and the King nodded, leaning against her desk. Sarah couldn't help but look at his lithe legs, still encased in those ridiculously tight trousers he seemed so partial to.

"Yes, I was a little surprised to find you in London. A marvelous city, one I'm rather fond of." He said, walking around the small room and picking things up, turning them over a few times then putting them back in their place. Sarah watched as he did this, a little bemused that he was being so casual with her.

"You sound like you're from London." Sarah said, amazed that she was actually having a normal conversation with the Goblin King. "Is that the accent among..your kind?" She had been told several times that Jareth was a Fae, but she thought it might seem like she knew a little too much about him if she said that.

"I suppose I do. It is rather the norm, my parents certainly speak as I do." He looked down at her legs, now a rather vibrant shade of red. "You've burnt yourself, precious." He told her, pointing to her legs, and she rolled her eyes.

"Gee, have I? I suppose spilling boiling milk on my legs will do that. Maybe if you hadn't startled me with the thunder and just come in like a normal person.." She stood up and walked into her bathroom, wetting a towel with cold water and holding it against her thighs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and found herself adjusting her hair and making sure she didn't look too indecent in her pjs.

"I could heal that for you." He called out to her casually. Sarah walked out of her bathroom and found him flicking through a copy of Hello! magazine whilst sitting on her desk. This whole situation was absurd, and she laughed out loud. "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her, looking a little hurt.

"You're very different from last time." She told him curiously. "No snakes, no trickery?" She asked him, and the Goblin King smiled, exposing his crooked teeth and cat like fangs.

"I can be a little kinder than I was in the Labyrinth, Sarah. You summoned me, and I had a duty to perform. I can be cruel when I want to, you know very well." Sarah tried not to shudder as she remembered the games he had played with her. "However," he added rather playfully, folding the magazine and placing it back on the desk. "Now I am here in a social capacity, I see no need to taunt you. It would be most impolite. I'm not a monster you know, I do have some social skills. I am a King after all, not a beast." He told her pointedly, arms folded.

"I'm sorry. I guess that was a little rude of me. If you could..um, heal me, that would be great. It stings a little." Sarah felt majorly under dressed in her shorts, especially in the presence of a man. This man.

"Of course. I'm no physician, but I can heal basic burns and scrapes with little effort. You should feel privileged Sarah, it is not every day you get healed by a King." He was teasing her, and she felt herself get hot with embarrassment.

"Well considering you're the one who made me spill my drink everywhere, I think it's the least you could do, your Majesty." She shot back at him, and he chuckled.

"I see you haven't changed, precious. As fiery as ever. Lie on the bed then." Sarah did as she was told, moving back to the bed and lying in a perfectly straight line, a little nervous. The Goblin King sat on the edge of the bed near her feet, and separated her legs gently so he could get clear access to the burnt area. Sarah felt like she was going to pass out.

He removed a glove, and Sarah realised she'd never seen his bare hands. Of course, she'd been too preoccupied trying to stop her little brother being turned into a goblin to pay attention to her captor's hands. His fingers were long and slender, his nails short and trimmed. He only removed a single glove, and moved to touch her thigh. Sarah blushed a little - it felt rather intimate to have the Goblin King touch her thigh. She watched as he closed his eyes, unable to take her eyes off of his face. His lips moved in some silent incantation. She felt a strange kind of buzzing on her leg, and warmth spread through her thigh. She looked down and could see the redness of the burn rapidly moving inwards towards the Goblin King's hand until it had all vanished. He removed his hand and smiled, pleased with his handiwork.

"There, good as new." He said proudly, like a little boy who had just done a macaroni picture. "Lovely." Sarah wondered if he was talking about his work or her thighs, and she stared at him. He looked as though he had realised what he said, and dragged his eyes to hers. They stared at each other for a moment, until the Goblin King spoke again, clearing his throat and breaking the spell between them. "Now, I must return Underground. I have taken enough of your time and I have much to do." Sarah watched him start to put his glove back on with precision, just as he did everything.

"No." Sarah found herself saying, sitting up and reaching out to grab his arm. He looked at her strangely, the glove still hanging halfway off his hand, and Sarah knew she must seem a little desperate. "I mean, would you mind staying? Just for five minutes more? I haven't had much company lately and it might be nice to talk to someone other than Hoggle."

Jareth said nothing, merely returning to putting his glove on, and Sarah knew she'd misinterpreted the situation; he had no desire to be her friend, to stay and indulge her in idle conversation. She dropped her grip on his arm and sat up on the bed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Of course you need to get back, I'm sorry for keeping you, your Majesty." She swung her legs down to the floor and moved towards the bathroom. She called out behind her "It was good to see you Goblin King." She went in to the bathroom and shut the door, leaning against it and trying to ignore the painful lump in her throat.

She jumped at the gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"I was a little surprised that you asked me to stay." His voice was as clear as if he was in the room, and Sarah wondered if he was using magic to make it so. "I thought I would be the last person you would turn to for company."

"Maybe I'm just that desperate." She mumbled thickly, hoping it sounded like a joke. She was rewarded with a rich, throaty chuckle from the other side of the door.

"Come out of the bathroom, Sarah. I believe it is customary in England to make your guest a cup of tea." Sarah turned and opened the bathroom door, and saw Jareth standing waiting for her, an amused smile playing on his lips. He leaned against the wall, still as cocky as ever. Sarah walked past him and gestured for him to follow her to the kitchen.

"Fine," she told him begrudgingly, "just as long as you don't spill it on me."

Trying to shake off the memory of Jareth drinking tea in her kitchen, Sarah opened the door to her mother's flat, calling out "I'm home!" to the empty room. Sarah checked her watch, and saw that it was 5:30. Her mother had probably already left for the theatre by now. Sighing, she placed her shopping bags on the kitchen table, and looked to see if there was a note anywhere. Sure enough, Sarah saw a scrappy bit of paper stuck to the fridge with a "I Heart NY" magnet. Going over to it, she took the paper off the fridge and read it carefully.

"Sarah. I'm so sorry I forgot your birthday. I've had to go to work now, I thought you'd be home earlier. Your father called a little while ago. We'll do something to celebrate tomorrow, I promise. Mom."

Sarah crumpled the paper up and tossed it in the garbage can. She was used to her mother's empty promises by now and wouldn't hold her breath. The answer machine was blinking furiously, and Sarah pressed play. There were a couple of begging messages from Jeremy, which Sarah wanted to delete but chose to keep for her mother. Then there was a message featuring Toby singing Happy Birthday with Irene singing along in the background. The final message was from her dad, wishing her a happy birthday and asking her to call him when she got the message. She was in no mood to speak to any of them. Selfish as it was, Sarah was consumed with thoughts of what had happened on Westminster Bridge that afternoon.

Sarah's thoughts were drawn back to Jareth yet again. He had been different on the bridge to the last time she had seen him. In her bedroom he was more playful, but today he seemed much more intense, brooding even. He had wanted her for his wife, something she hadn't known before now. She assumed that when he had asked her to love him, he meant to her to be his plaything rather than his partner. The last time they had met, there had been no talk of the Labyrinth really, it had all been rather jolly and matey. Sarah wondered if her loneliness had made her kinder - she certainly hadn't accused him of trying to kill her back then. Today she had felt angry; angry that he had never come back to her, angry that she felt as though she had been struck by lightning just at the sight of him. Today he had answered some questions she had been thinking of for years, and all in such a short period of time.

Glancing again at her watch, Sarah ran to the bathroom and turned the taps of the bath on. She felt grimy from traveling on the tube, and she wanted to look presentable for her birthday meal. Waiting for the tub to fill up, she sat down on the closed toilet and thought about why she wanted to look nice. It was always nice to dress up, she reasoned.

You want him to think you're beautiful.

No, I don't.

You want him to want you.

No, I don't.

As Sarah lay in the hot water, she tried to relax and ignore the voices swirling around in her head. She had hung up her new dress in the steamy bathroom to smooth out any wrinkles that may have occurred in transit, and she gazed at the twinkling material to calm her down. It really was beautiful, she thought to herself. A dress made of stars. She washed her hair and shaved her legs (the dress needed bare legs, she told herself) and lazed underneath the water trying to will her heart rate to return to normal.

After she'd finished bathing, Sarah meticulously dried her long hair until it shone like chestnuts. She tied a little of it up, leaving the majority tumbling down her back. Squinting critically into the mirror, she decided to wear make up, though she normally didn't bother. Her mother had plenty of the stuff lying around and Sarah was sure she wouldn't mind if her daughter borrowed a little. Hell, she'd probably be thrilled. Applying a little foundation, blush, mascara and a rather shocking red lipstick, Sarah stared at herself in the mirror and wondered if it was a bit much. She tried dabbing at the lipstick to make it look a little less..obvious, and sighed as the red stained the skin around her mouth.

She looked at the clock and realised with a start that it was already 7:15. If she didn't leave soon, she'd never make it to the bridge in time. She hastily wiped the excess lipstick from her skin and grabbed the bullet to put in her purse. She ran to the bathroom, pulled the dress off it's hanger and shoved it over her head. Running to the shopping bag on the kitchen table, she grabbed the shoes out of their box and struggled to strap them on to her feet. Checking her reflection in the long mirror near the front door, she felt quietly pleased. This was definitely an improvement on any outfit Jareth had ever seen her in. Not that she was doing this for him. She shoved on her jacket, London nights were cold and usually wet. With one final check in the mirror, she was ready.

She darted out the door, hoping that she'd be able to find a cab on the street. Mercifully, she found one after a couple of minutes and sat in the back watching London flash past. It really was beautiful at night, and Sarah found the sensation of the lights flying past finally calmed her. She kept checking her watch to make sure she wasn't late, and at 7:55, the cab pulled over on the bridge. She gave the driver a generous tip and walked to the spot where she had been standing earlier. Leaning against the rails, she stared out into the darkness, watching the boats go up and down the river. Letting out a deep breath she hadn't realised she was holding, she waited for Jareth.


	3. Chapter 3

As Big Ben chimed eight, Jareth placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, and he immediately presented her with a bunch of flowers as big as her head.

"I believe flowers are also customary on a birthday, as well as dinner." He told her, and Sarah laughed. He seemed to be obsessed with Aboveground customs, and she wanted to learn all about how the Fae did things. She stared down at the bouquet he had just handed were beautiful white roses, as big as side dishes. In the dim light provided by the streetlights, she could see that each petal sparkled as though sprinkled with diamonds.

"These are beautiful." She breathed, holding them close to her nose and inhaling their intoxicating perfume. "I've never seen anything like them."

"They are from my private gardens." He told her. "I hoped you would like them."

"I do, very much. You look nice." She told him, admiring the simple black suit he was wearing. She could see the amulet he always wore nestling beneath his shirt, and she wondered if it was something he chose to wear or something he had to. It was still odd seeing him look so..average, without the long hair and the exceedingly tight clothing. There was still something about him that was intoxicating. His eyes sparkled, even in the dim light on the bridge. He had an air of magic about him that he couldn't mask with clothes and a hair cut.

"You look stunning, precious." His voice was soft, and he brushed his hand over the side of her face tenderly. Sarah closed her eyes briefly, concentrating the sensation of his gloved fingers brushing her skin. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her coat, feigning ignorance to her appearance.

"Do I?" She asked innocently, touching her hair as if checking it was still there. "I didn't really have much time to get ready."

"It was all the time you needed. I am a lucky man to have a beauty such as you on my arm this evening. Now, shall we go?" He asked pleasantly, bending his arm and gesturing for her to take it.

"Where are we going?" Jareth simply tapped the side of his nose with his other hand, indicating a secret. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What are you, twelve? You going to tell me to mind my own beeswax next?"

"Beeswax? I didn't know you kept bees. I myself have several hives. Anyway, I have arranged something rather special. I need you to close your eyes and hold on to my arm. Don't let go, Sarah, no matter what." Sarah eyed him suspiciously, and finally linked her arm through his. Her other hand still held the bouquet he had given her. "Now, eyes closed. Hold tight." Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and within an instant knew that he had used magic to transport them. The ground disappeared from under her and she felt as though she was flying and falling all at the same time. Within seconds, she was standing on solid ground again.

"Can I open my eyes now?" She asked, and Jareth chuckled. He let go of her arm for a second, and she wondered where he had gone. The bouquet was pulled gently from her hand, and she felt her coat being slipped off her shoulders. As quickly as he'd left, he was back, lacing his hand through hers. Sarah could feel the smooth leather of his gloves, but the feeling of holding his hand made her a little breathless. She felt like an idiot - who gets excited just from holding a guy's hand?

"In a moment. Let me move you over here, then you may open your eyes." Sarah murmured her consent, still squeezing her eyes shut to resist the temptation to peek. She had no idea where they could be. She wondered if he had taken her Underground without her permission. She wasn't sure how she would feel if she was Underground; she was not adverse to going back, as long as she didn't have to run the Labyrinth again. She tried to focus on what she could hear and feel, but there wasn't much to go on. She could hear footsteps echoing around her, but little else.

Through the thin sleeves of her dress she could feel that wherever they were was cold, though it didn't sound as though they were outside. She walked gingerly as Jareth lead her slowly, and she reveled the sensation of his leather clad hand holding hers once again. She squeezed it quickly, and smiled as he squeezed her hand back. She put one hand out to steady herself, and felt cold, slightly damp stone beneath her finger tips. She wondered if they were in his castle.

"Open your eyes," he whispered into her ear, standing behind her now. Sarah shuddered a little at the sensation of his breath on her sensitive skin and did as she was instructed. She gasped at the view that lay before her. They weren't in the Underground at all, in fact they were not far from where they had begun. Sarah could see Tower Bridge a little in distance, lit up brightly. Blocking some of the view were turrets and ancient walls, and Sarah squealed when she realised where they were.

"This is the Tower of London!" She exclaimed, turning away from the window and looking around her. The room was bathed in candlelight, and was empty save a small table that stood in the middle. Sarah looked around, seeing the walls were made of thick grey stone. There was a fireplace large enough for her to stand in in the corner. The room was pure history, and Sarah felt giddy at being in such an ancient building without being surrounded by tourists. "You brought me to the Tower of London!" In her excitement, she threw herself at him, latching her arms around his neck and hugging him closely. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

"Indeed." Jareth smiled at her reaction, patting her back awkwardly and she pulled back from the hug she had forced on him. She suddenly realised something was different; he looked like himself again. The long hair was back, and he was wearing black pants, his long leather boots and a rather nice burgundy jacket with a high collar. She could see the amulet he always wore peeping out from beneath his black shirt, which was open slightly at the chest as usual. His markings sparkled above his eyes in the candlelight, and Sarah stared at him hopelessly.

"I hope you don't mind, precious," he said as he noticed her looking at him with an open mouth "but I thought as it's just the two of us here, I'd remove the glamour I normally use when I'm Above. Mortal clothes are a little dull for my tastes."

"N-no, that's fine." Sarah thought he looked incredible, and she tried to ignore the feeling that settled in her belly. She looked around her again in disbelief, not seeing that Jareth was watching her with a smirk. "I think I prefer you like that any way. You're more familiar." She turned back to the window, admiring the view.

"I can't believe I'm in the Tower of London! How have you managed this? Am I going to get arrested?" She asked him, half expecting the police to break the door down any moment. Jareth shook his head.

"Should anyone come to this part of the castle, they will simply see an empty room. It is a simple enchantment, but one that allows me a few..privileges." Sarah barely heard him, walking around the room in a daze. She had always loved the history of London, and she had been to the Tower several times. It was always packed with tourists. This must have been a room kept out of bounds to the public, as there were no exhibitions in here. Unless of course Jareth had relocated them for the evening.

"Well, thank you. It's perfect. It's always been my favourite building in London." She returned to the window, still gazing out at the city spread before her, the mix of old and new fascinating to see.

Jareth made the bold move of standing against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She didn't move, didn't protest, and closed her eyes at the feeling of his lithe body against her back.

"I know it is. You look exquisite tonight, precious. That is a beautiful dress you're wearing. Rather short," he added playfully "but beautiful. Very different to the shapeless peasant garments you normally wear." A hand moved away from her waist, and touched the fabric of the sleeve near her wrist. Sarah watched as his fingers curled round her wrist briefly before he moved his hand away. Every movement he made seemed deliberate, planned to tease her and touch her as often and as seemingly carelessly as he could. He stayed close to her, and Sarah had no desire to move away from him. How was it that she could feel so comfortable around him that she would let him hold her like this?

Breaking out of her daze, she realised what he had just said to her. "Hey, you know it's not 'customary' to insult the birthday girl's fashion sense right? You have to be extra nice to me! No calling me a peasant on my birthday."

"Sorry, love." The easy way endearments slipped into his speech intrigued Sarah. He spoke to her softly, even when teasing, and she wondered he was behaving like this to try and win her over, or if this was truly how he was in private. The cynical side of her thought that he could be putting an act on to trick her into his bed. "I will make every effort to be extra nice, as you put it." He practically growled into her ear, and Sarah shut her eyes, biting her lip. He was the most seductive man she had ever been around, and she felt as though she was drowning in him. "You really have become quite the beautiful woman, Sarah."

"T-thank you. Um. You too?" She said nervously. "I mean.."

"I know what you mean." He said, amused at her mistake. "Do I make you feel uneasy Sarah?"

"Not uneasy. Just a little nervous. I don't have the best experiences with you and castles." She reminded him, trying to keep her voice light. She was painfully aware that he had not moved his arms from around her waist. If anything he was holding her closer to him than before.

"I assure you I am on my best behaviour. No tricks, no deception. I told you, I can be perfectly pleasant when I want to be." Sarah said nothing in response to that, biting her tongue and keeping everything she wanted to know inside.

Jareth continued the conversation easily, returning the subject to their dinner venue. "I've been here several times over the years, so I knew which room would be the best for our little dinner this evening."

"How have you been here?" Sarah asked, suspecting that it hadn't been on a day trip. "Somehow I don't picture you as a tourist."

"When you're as old as I am, dearest, you get through a great number of friends. It just so happens that I made mine in all the right places. I went off it a bit after sweet Anne died here. Luckily so did everyone else, so I didn't come here much after that."

"Anne?" Sarah asked. After a moment's thought, she squealed in surprise. She turned a little in his arms so she could see his face. "You knew Anne Boelyn?!"

"In a sense." He shrugged, and Sarah eyed him suspiciously.

"Were you lovers?" She asked, realising afterwards she probably should have asked in a more polite way. After all, she barely knew the man and here she was asking if he'd screwed a Queen of England. Jareth laughed, raising an eyebrow at her in surprise.

"My my Sarah, aren't you forward. No, she was not my lover. She was innocent of all those charges. However, the witchcraft..she certainly was not so innocent of that."

"Was she Fae?" Sarah asked, wondering if that was what he meant.

"Yes - her powers of seduction were really an enchantment, any mortal man she directed her attention to was utterly undone. She was the most beguiling woman I had ever known. That we were not lovers was not due to lack of trying on my part." Sarah felt a strange spike of jealousy, and reminded herself that he was talking about someone who had been dead for hundreds of years.

"If she was Fae, why didn't she save herself? Surely she could have just vanished back to the Underground at the first sign of trouble." Sarah couldn't understand how a woman who presumably had all the same powers as Jareth would just sit around and wait to be beheaded.

"She broke laws Underground as well as Above just before it all went wrong for her, and her powers had been suspended. The enchantment failed and she lost all of her influence over Henry." He explained impatiently, his arms still locked round Sarah's waist. "Look Sarah, if you don't mind I arranged this evening to celebrate your birthday, not talk about Anne Boelyn." Sarah turned in his arms and continued enjoying the view from the window whilst talking to him.

"I'm sorry. I just love history and it's not every day you find out something like that!"

"Consider it your gift then." He teased her. "I'm sure I could tell you a thing or two about history. The Fae have been quite prolific in the Above for thousands of years. Particularly the Medieval times."

"How old are you?" Sarah asked, turning around suddenly, wondering if he was indeed thousands of years old. She looked at him closely in the dim light and could see few wrinkles or signs of age spots. He looked like a mortal man in his mid thirties, all angular jaw and sharp nose.

"Older than you, sweet thing. Much too old for you." He added quietly, raising a hand to stroke a lock of her hair. Sarah frowned at the last part of his statement. "Today is your birthday, not mine. There's no need to discuss my age."

"Ten thousand years old?" Sarah guessed pressing him for an answer to her question. She was curious to know more about this impossible man wrapped around her. Jareth laughed softly.

"No, not as old as all that. I'm not my Grandfather. I was born around fifteen hundred of your years ago, I suppose. We don't mark birthdays in the same way as humans, we celebrate centuries rather than single years. All the singing and forced merriment you mortals are so fond of would get a little boring after the hundredth time, and you'd still be a babe."

"So really, you're fifteen. A moody teenager." Sarah teased him, and Jareth threw his head back and laughed.

"That's one way of looking at things I suppose, dearest. Rather more favourable than hurtling towards old age. My next birth celebration will be in two years." Sarah scoffed at him.

"So you're much closer to sixteen hundred years old."

"Forgive me for shaving a few years off, precious. Nobody likes being reminded they're getting older. Especially me, the vain old goat that I am."

"Are you immortal?"

"Not immortal, but our lifespans are hundreds the time of yours. We physically age in much the same way as humans, though the process is much slower. I suppose by your terms I look middle aged. Most Fae fade around six or seven thousand years old."

"Wow. So when I'm a shriveled old prune, you'll still look like you do now?"

"You could never be a prune, sweet thing."

Even if I was with him, in that way, Sarah thought, I would age and die and he would still be young. What's the use of falling in love with someone who can barely blink before you're gone forever?

"Tell me more about you." Sarah asked, wanting to move the subject away from her own mortality. "I hardly know anything."

"My name is Jareth. I'm fifteen hundred and ninety eight years old, I live in a castle.." he began sarcastically, and she interrupted him.

"Yes, thanks, I know that. May I ask you some questions? I meant what I said earlier, I want to get to know you." Jareth slipped his arms away from her waist.

"Let us sit then. You may interrogate me as much as you wish to, and I shall do my best to answer you honestly."

Jareth pulled one of the chairs out for her, and gestured for her to sit down. As she took her seat, he pushed her closer to the table and went round to the other side to join her.

"Thank you. Quite the gentleman."

"Your questions, Sarah. I would like to do other things tonight beside talk about myself, so ask them quickly."

"What's your full name?"

"His Royal Highness, Jareth the Goblin King."

"That's your title. You just have one name? No family name?"

"My family name is Danu, but I have no need to use it. There is no real use for family names, it is purely symbolic rather than practical. There are so few of us that we each have unique names. We do not need other names to set us apart from one another. I suppose they have some use to assess social status, but the King part of my title does that for me."

"Who are your parents? What do they do?"

"My mother is Arethusa, my father Hefeyd. Really Sarah, is there nothing of more interest we can discuss?" Jareth asked, growing impatient. "I have no desire to analyse my family tree."

"I want to know you better, I think family is a good place to start." Sarah insisted. "How does childhood work in your world? Are you born like humans? Do women carry the children?"

"Yes, our biology is much the same as yours, though the Fae are less fertile, particularly if they breed with their own kind. Most couples are lucky if they can conceive once. My parents were blessed with twins."

"Twins? You have a twin?" Sarah pictured two of Jareth - a scary thought indeed.

"A sister, yes. Her name is Juturna. She is married to the Elf King, I haven't seen her for centuries." Jareth said casually, pouring the wine that was sitting in an ice bucket next to the table into her glass. After he was finished, he poured a generous serving into his own glass. Sarah raised an eyebrow at him, but he merely shrugged. "If we're talking about my sister, I'm going to need this."

"Do you miss her?"

"We are rather different people who don't see eye to eye." He said, and Sarah got the impression that pushing for more information would be a bad idea.

"How did you become King?"

"My father was King before me, but he grew weary of the Goblins and abdicated, leaving me in charge whilst he and my mother flit around the Underground doing whatever they fancy. Now I am the one growing weary of the Goblins."

"Do you have any children?" Sarah asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her. He had lived for so long, surely he must have had some children.

"No."

"Do you want to have children?"

"I wish to have an heir. I'm not sure how I will achieve that, be it keeping a wished-away babe like Toby or having my own son." Sarah wondered if that meant he would marry a Fae woman, and she felt a now familiar stab of jealously. Jareth watched her carefully, gauging her reaction.

"Were you angry at me?" Sarah asked suddenly. "I thought you would be more angry at me." Sarah admitted, something she had wanted to say for a long time. Jareth said nothing, so she continued nervously. "I defeated you. I told you you have no power over me. You even told me today that you wanted me to be your Queen, and I rejected you..why are you being so nice to me?"

"I was angry at being defeated. Six years ago, I wouldn't be standing here with you trying to ensure you had a happy birthday. Quite the opposite, in fact. Six years in the Underground is hardly any time at all, and I spent the first three obsessing over what had gone wrong. I was furious for a while, but I found it boring being consumed like that. When I saw you three years ago, I found it difficult to be angry at someone who burned herself by spilling cocoa on her lap. You weren't the girl who destroyed everything then; you were just Sarah. In a way, I should have been more angry someone who could do something so stupid could defeat me. I found it funny, truth be told. You made me laugh."

"Gee thanks. I'm not a clown you know."

"No, you're not a clown." He said sincerely. Jareth reached across the table to hold her hand. "Truth be told Sarah, I barely understand the shift in my feelings for you. I'm not the sentimental type. I move the stars for no one, I believe I said. When I look at you, I know I would rearrange the universe itself if it meant that you would love me."

For once, Sarah didn't know what to say.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Warning for some mild sexual innuendo/suggestion.

"Can I ask more questions?" Sarah finally broke the silence, his romantic words still ringing in her ears. He shrugged, taking a deep swig of wine. When he had finished, he put it back down on the table, and took great care to look her directly in the eyes. His gaze was intense, and Sarah felt as though he was looking into her very soul.

"Go ahead." He didn't acknowledge that she had essentially ignored his confession of love, but she noticed that he had moved his hand away from hers and crossed his arms. Sarah didn't know what to say; she still wanted to know him better, and she was determined not to give into any desire she may have for him until that happened.

"Do you always drink so much?" She asked first, realising that in the short time they had been sat down at the dinner table he had drunk several glasses of wine.

"You sound like my mother, Sarah. It is most unbecoming." He sighed. "No, I don't always drink so much. Anyway, mortal alcohol is less potent than I am used to so it would take a great deal to get me drunk."

"Then why are you drinking so much?"

"You make me nervous, my love, and I never get nervous. Can we steer the interrogation away from my drinking habits please, sweet thing? I'm beginning to feel as though I am seeing a physician rather than having a pleasant evening with a beautiful woman."

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. Yours?"

"Green."

"Sarah, please think of some more creative questions or stop asking me them. I feel as though you're trying to redecorate my bed chamber rather than get to know me properly." He sighed, and Sarah thought he had the attention span of a goat.

"Sorry. I just don't know what I can ask you without you getting offended."

"Just ask me whatever you want - if I don't want to answer, I won't. Sound fair?"

"Have you ever looked at me using a crystal?" Sarah had wondered this ever since Hoggle had mentioned that Jareth could use his crystals to spy on people, as well as to cast spells. Jareth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sarah laughed triumphantly. "You have!"

"Yes." He admitted, clutching his wine glass so tightly Sarah was surprised the stem didn't snap. "Several times, in fact. I know it was wrong, but I was so obsessed with finding out how you defeated me I summoned crystals quite often, just to watch you. After the night I spent in your company, I used them less out of respect for your privacy. I found that I missed you, and I couldn't help myself every now and then."

Sarah tried to remember everything she had done that he might have seen, and she blushed as she remembered that she had been dating someone, James, briefly the year before. She hoped that Jareth had not seen that - or if he had, that he had respected her privacy enough to not be a complete voyeur. There was no polite way to ask if Jareth had watched her lose her virginity. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Jareth simply held up a hand to stop her.

"And before you ask, dearest, yes I saw that pathetic mortal attempt to court you. No," he added bitterly, "I did not watch anything you would consider to be private. I am no pervert. Really Sarah, there is nothing I'd rather watch less than some clumsy fool trying to satisfy you, knowing that I would do anything to be in his place."

Sarah flushed, embarrassed at his words. She didn't want to tell him that she had only gone out with James because he vaguely reminded her of Jareth. It was a desperate attempt to feel close to him again, and the whole situation was so thoroughly pathetic she didn't want to admit it to him. It turned out James only possessed Jareth's negative qualities - arrogance, selfishness and an insufferable need to be right all the time. There was no charm or wit to balance him out. When they had broken up after a few months, Sarah deeply regretted losing her virginity to him, knowing that he was a pale imitation of what he really wanted. But she had realised over time that there was no use in regretting what had already happened.

"It wasn't like tha-"

"Then there is nothing I'd rather hear less than you talking about a clumsy fool who did satisfy you. Spare me the details, Sarah. I can be a jealous man, Sarah, and it would rather spoil the night. If you don't have any more questions, perhaps we could attempt to have an ordinary conversation before the image of you with another man is burnt into my mind's eye forever. I believe it is poor manners to talk of past lovers at the dinner table." He refilled his glass again, taking a sip as he watched her carefully. His voice had an edge to it that she didn't like, and it irritated her. He looked like a petulant child, his mouth set in a hard line.

"You brought him up!" She exclaimed, annoyed that he would make out like she was dying to talk about her ex boyfriend. "I would never have mentioned him!"

"Apologies, Sarah. It was most uncouth of me, you're right. I saw how he hurt you, my most precious.." Sarah felt a flare of rage at his nerve - she wasn't 'his' anything, he'd ignored her for years and he suddenly had the balls to come and claim her.

"If you call me your belonging, I swear I will slap you until next Tuesday. Anyway, it's not like you were even around. Maybe if you were, things would have been different." As soon as the words were out her mouth, she regretted them. She could not blame Jareth's absence for her own choices, after all she was an adult now.

"Perhaps." His voice was still hard, and she felt like they were teetering on the verge of having a huge argument. That was the last thing she wanted to happen, and she tried desperately to claw the evening back. "I wasn't going to say belonging." He added sulkily. "I was going to say 'girl' if you would let me finish." They both sat in silence, Jareth drinking yet more wine. Sarah had hardly touched hers, but she took a deep glug of the stuff.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"I said things too that were perhaps a little out of line." Jareth said, still as stubborn as ever. "It was not polite of me. Perhaps we should end this little question and answer session, I feel it is taking a negative turn."

"Just a couple more. They'll be nice, I promise."

"Fine. When you have finished, I shall serve dinner. I find myself driven to drink by your interrogation, my love, and if I continue like this I shall be far too intoxicated to maintain the enchantment on this building. We shall both be arrested for treason before the night's out." He raised his glass to her, then drained it quickly.

"How much time do you spend Aboveground?" Sarah asked, trying to move the subject away from anything that could be interpreted as sexual. "How did you know about my mother's play?"

"Quite a large amount of time, I suppose. I use it to break up the monotony of refereeing arguments over chickens." Sarah laughed, well aware that the Goblins could make a fight over poultry into a full scale war. "I knew about your mother's play because the damn advertisements are plastered all over London and she looks just like you."

"Where do you live when you're here? Or do you just go back to the Goblin City every night?"

"No, I have a house here that I live in when I am Above, and I pop back and forth as I please. I've been doing it for centuries, it's why my accent is a little less refined than other Fae. I've always felt at home in London."

"Where's your house?" Sarah asked, curious to know where a magical King would choose to live.

"My current property is in Chelsea, on the Kings Road. I purchased it in the late 1950s, just before it became quite the place to be seen. The 60's were marvelous, the most fun I've had in years. Then it got a little boring and I stayed Underground for a few years. I've lived all over London, I have no desire to live anywhere else Above. Quite a few houses have been destroyed - one was demolished to stop the spread of the Black Death, another burnt to a cinder by the Great Fire. I've lived in quite a few royal courts too as an advisor, I even lived here for a short while." He told her, gesturing around him. "Before my Chelsea house, I had a charming place right next to the river, but it was destroyed in the Blitz. I tend to remain Underground during times of conflict and hardship, dying Above without an heir to replace me would be most inconvenient."

"I can imagine. So do you socialise with humans? Don't they get suspicious when you never age?"

"Sometimes. There is quite a large network of Fae and other 'magical' creatures around, so I tend to stick with them. My social life tends to be rather active when I wish it to be." Sarah wondered what he meant by that - if it meant that he went to a lot of parties or whether he meant that he had many lovers. "I enjoy spending time alone, too. It is damn near impossible to get any peace at all at my castle, the goblins get everywhere. As far as the aging thing goes, I take myself off until everyone who remembers me has died, and come back with a new name. It's getting increasingly harder to do so, modern medicine means everyone is living longer, it's bloody annoying."

"..You find medical science that means not everyone dies at thirty annoying?"

"It's good for everyone else but it puts the dampeners on my good time." Jareth said, and Sarah found herself still struggling to get used to his incredibly dry sense of humour.

"What name do you use now?" She asked with interest.

"You're going to laugh." He warned her, and she held her hands up feigning innocence.

"Try me."

"Jareth G. King." Sarah tried to keep it in, but she exploded with laughter. It hurt her stomach muscles to laugh so hard, and when she caught sight of Jareth's disgruntled expression, she laughed even harder. "Alright, that's enough."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She wheezed, trying to calm down.

"Are we finished with the questions now, dearest?" Sarah shook her head, drinking a sip of wine to try and calm her down. Putting it down, she thought of a more sensible question to ask him.

"How big is your Kingdom?" Sarah asked curiously, realising she had only seen the Labyrinth and the Goblin City, which had seemed rather small to warrant a King.

"In terms you'd understand, I'd say it's roughly the size of Wales. The Labyrinth and the city are the main parts, but there are countless villages surrounding it, as well as a few other smaller cities."

"Why do goblins have a Fae as their leader?" She asked, interested to know how one species were happy to be ruled over by another.

"You've seen them, Sarah. Would you put a goblin in charge of a kingdom when they can barely look after a keg of ale?"

"No. But don't they object?"

"It's always been that way, as long as the Kingdom has existed. They don't mind it, as long as things aren't too dreadful for them. I like to think I am a fair and just King, I make sure they have good lives with little conflict."

"What happens to the babies you collect?"

"They don't become goblins, Sarah. As I told you, the Fae don't reproduce very often. Although half children aren't common, wished away babies are something of a status symbol. I don't understand how their minds work, but I'm glad the babes go to good homes."

"Couldn't you just return them?" Sarah asked; the subject of his duty of removing babies still made her angry.

"They aren't all like Toby, Sarah." Jareth said quietly. "Most of the babes I receive are hideously treated. It is kinder for them to be loved, even if it's not by their own kind."

"How do they become Fae? Or are they still mortal?"

"If you live Underground long enough, the human aging process becomes overpowered by the magic in the air. I don't understand how it works, but it does."

"Is that what would have happened to me, if I'd stayed?"

"The process would have been a little different. You were my chosen queen, and there are certain..actions involved that would have turned you Fae quicker than normal." Jareth explained, looking into his glass. Sarah raised an eyebrow at him.

"And they are?"

"Let's just say they traditionally take place on the wedding night." Jareth's lip twitched in amusement as Sarah turned a vibrant shade of red. "Come precious, there's no need to turn red. I'm quite sure you would enjoy yourself. I know I have thought of little else, and seeing you now in that dress.." Sarah was unsure if he was playing with her - he was grinning his predatory smile again, his eyes narrowed at her like he was waiting to pounce. His gloved hand had founds hers and lazily stroked the skin between her thumb and forefinger. The tension between them made her dizzy, the constant back and forth and easy, flirtatious banter was delicious to her.

"Have you had relationships with mortal women? Is it possible for Fae to have children with humans?"

"My my, Sarah. You seem to be quite obsessed with the idea of children this evening."

"Answer the question." She told him haughtily, and he humoured her.

"Yes. Most Fae don't bother, many think that humans are unworthy of mating with. In fact, the rate of fertility is much higher between the two species, and the Fae genes override the human ones. The child is born magical, and there is a much higher chance of being able to conceive more than once. It is uncommon to find mixed children, however. The Fae would rather die out because of their damn pride than lower themselves to be with humans." Sarah blinked, wondering if he shared these views.

He was pouring yet more wine into his glass, not even looking at her. He topped up her glass, and she murmured her thanks. When he had finished, he set the bottle back in the ice bucket and looked up at her. Her face must have given away what she was thinking, and he grinned at her.

"Those are not my views, dearest. There is nothing I would enjoy more than lowering myself on to you, as many times as possible." His voice was smooth, delicious, teasing her again, but the implication of his words made her splutter into her wine glass with shock. He flashed her a wicked grin, knowing exactly what his words had done. "Are you alright Sarah?" He asked innocently, and Sarah tried to compose herself.

"Fine." She said weakly, still coughing a little. "You forgot the other part of the question." She reminded him, and he smirked again.

"Sarah, I do not believe you really wish to know the answer to that question. If I say yes, you will pretend not to be jealous. If I say no, you will wonder why and start questioning what I have beneath my breeches."

"Jareth, you wear pants that are so tight I know exactly what is underneath your breeches."

Sarah was persuaded to stop her questioning when Jareth waved his hand over the empty plate sitting in front of her, and a meal appeared from nowhere. It was a simple meal, chicken, broccoli and potatoes but it was one that Sarah loved. She had always been a bit of a fussy eater, though she'd gotten better as she'd grown up.

"Woah." Sarah exclaimed. She looked down at her plate at the food that had just materialized. "I didn't know you could do that."

"I can conjure crystals with my hands, but you didn't think I could make a simple plate of food?" Jareth laughed. "It is, as you would say, a piece of cake."

"Don't say that." Sarah groaned, spearing a piece of potato on her fork. "I was just a kid." Jareth said nothing, but looked at the wine and suddenly yanked the seemingly never ending wine bottle out of it's cooler dramatically.

"We haven't toasted your birthday." Jareth said, filling her glass yet again. She was making sure not to drink as quickly as him so she didn't get drunk and completely embarrass herself. She studied him carefully, and could see no signs of him being even a little tipsy. When he had refilled both their glasses, he raised his to her.

"Happy birthday, precious Sarah. May all your wishes come true."

She clinked her glass against his, avoiding looking directly at him, and he tutted.

"What?"

"Have you never heard the old human superstition about looking someone in the eyes during a toast?" He asked her, and Sarah frowned, trying to think of what superstition he could possibly be talking about. Jareth explained, "If you break eye contact during a toast, you are cursed with seven years of bad sex."

"You just made that up." Sarah said, putting down her glass and crossing her arms skeptically. Jareth shrugged, grinning at her like a little kid in a candy store.

"Are you accusing me of lying Sarah? It is quite true, I assure you. Now, I would hate for you to be burdened with such a curse, and perhaps the curse would extend to me as well, as I was involved in the toast." He was acting innocent and caring, and it was so over the top Sarah couldn't help laughing out loud. "Come, Sarah. This is serious matter. Let us try again." Sarah reluctantly toasted him again, feeling a little self conscious as he stared so deeply into her eyes she could see he was trying not to laugh.

"Much better, love. I'm sure we will both sleep soundly tonight knowing that our mutual sexual satisfaction is assured for the next seven years." He said earnestly, gripping her hand again, smiling at her like he had done her a favour.

He was such a jackass.


	5. Chapter 5

They ate their meal in companionable silence. Sarah took the break in conversation to calm herself done. He made her giddy, as though she'd been spinning around on the teacups at Disneyland all day. He intoxicated her, and she had never felt more on edge. The games they were playing with one another were driving her crazy, and she wondered if they were having any effect on him at all. She watched him closely as he ate, looking away when he caught her staring. They had both finished their meals, and he waved his hand over the plates. They vanished, leaving just empty place settings.

"Sarah, I'm not an animal in a zoo." He said, dropping his fork and taking a deep drink of wine. "Kindly refrain from staring at me whilst I eat. It is most off putting, you know."

"S-sorry. I was just thinking." Jareth quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Do enlighten me."

"Um.." Sarah tried desperately to think of a question that wasn't related to whether or not he wanted her like she wanted him. "How..how do you get your hair like that?" He looked at her strangely, holding his wine glass ready to drink.

"Are you familiar with the concept of a hair cut, Sarah? It's simply the way I have it styled, I think it looks rather nice." He reached up to touch the long spikes of his hair self consciously. "It's the style Underground."

"Um, yeah." She replied indifferently, and Jareth narrowed his eyes at her.

"You don't like it?" He asked, his face a cross between amused and offended. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's fine!" Sarah cocked her head to one side, as if she was carefully analysing his head. It was so blonde it was almost white, and it ran down to his shoulders, with strands reaching his chest. Now she thought about it, it was like a child had hacked at a Barbie styling head with scissors. "It's just quite..poofy." She gestured wildly around her own head, looking at his hair. It was particularly large tonight, and Sarah realised he essentially had a mullet. No wonder he used a sleeker style when he was pretending to be human, he'd be laughed off the streets like that.

"Poofy?" He repeated. "Poofy." He tried to keep his face straight, but he laughed.

"It's not a bad thing! I mean, I would love for my hair to have that much volume."

"Mmm.." he murmured indifferently, and Sarah could see he was deciding whether or not to insult her hair in return. "If it's all the same to you Sarah, may we move away from the subject of my hair? I'm incredibly vain as it is without you giving me a complex about my poofy hair."

"Sure. Sorry. Your hair is magnificent, as are you, my King." She told him, her voice positively dripping with sarcasm.

"You're sounding a little ungrateful Sarah. After all I've done for you this evening, you won't even stroke my ego a little?"

"I don't think your ego needs any encouragement."

"Ah, but I would so enjoy you stroking my.." Jareth said silkily, and Sarah glared at him. "Ego." He finished, feigning innocence at Sarah's expression. "What did you think I was going to say, dearest?"

"Nothing."

"Here I was hoping that you were staring at me because you can't resist me.." She felt his hand move to her thigh, not as high as to be indecent, but definitely suggestive. She let it stay there, and he grinned smugly. Neither of them mentioned it out loud. "And all along you were wondering what hair products I use."

"Please, I think I can control myself at dinner." She told him scoldingly. She wondered how true that really was; she was letting him touch her legs under the table for Pete's sake!

"And after dinner?" Jareth asked seductively, leaning forward slightly, his hand edging upwards, but well below the hem of her dress. He was teasing her as he had been all evening, light touches that lingered a little too long. They were doing a dance together, and Sarah wasn't sure she could keep up. His eyes were dark, though one much darker than the other, and Sarah was reminded yet again of a lion perusing his prey.

"I'll be going to bed." She realised she'd forgotten to say "home to bed", and the implication had not gone unnoticed by the Goblin King.

"You certainly will." He replied with a grin, and she shifted in her chair so his hand moved off her leg and fell against the table leg. He brought his hand back to where she could see it, and rubbed where it had hit the wood. He had a look of a wounded puppy about him now. "Oh come now Sarah, that's not very sporting of you."

"Shut up."

"Nobody's told me to shut up in eight hundred years."

"Well it's about time someone did then."

Sarah had often wondered what she and Jareth would talk about should they ever see each other again, and as the evening drew on they fell into an easy conversation about nothing in particular. With another wave of his hand, he had presented Sarah with chocolate cake, her favourite, with a single candle in. Shutting her eyes, and knowing the power of words, she silently made her birthday wish. He asked her what she had wished for, and she refused to tell him, saying that for a man who had been so concerned with superstitions earlier in the evening, he should know that birthday wishes must be kept private or else they'll never come true.

The evening was one of the best she had ever had; she felt such a pure sense of happiness, like coming inside after a storm. She wasn't sure if she'd ever felt like that before; there was always some conflict within her. Now, it had all melted away. She glanced at the man beside her, hardly listening as he spoke but paying more attention to his face. They still sat at the dinner table, but he had moved his chair closer to hers. She didn't object. In fact, whilst he was telling her a story about how he narrowly avoided being turned into a chicken by an angry warlock, she wound her fingers round his and rested her head on his shoulder. A little while later, she draped her legs over him, and he was stroking her ankle lazily.

"I should be going soon." She told him when he had finished speaking about whatever it was. He made a little sound of disappointment, and she laughed. "I have to go sometime. My mom will be getting worried, I don't even know what the time is."

"Almost midnight. Stay a little longer, until the end of your birthday at least. I can have you home in two seconds flat, remember." He made a good point; normally it would take her almost an hour to go back to her mom's apartment from here the non magical way, but if he was willing to ping her back in seconds, she may as well take advantage of the extra time they could spend together.

"A little longer, that's all. Not that my mother will even notice I'm gone." Sarah yawned, leaning further into Jareth. He wrapped an arm around her protectively.

"Then I should take my chance and steal you away with me." He said quietly, pressing a kiss into her hair. Sarah was growing tired, Jareth's touch and the dim candle light lulling her into a state of complete relaxation. Right now, being taken away didn't sound so bad.

"I'm falling asleep." She groaned. "Can I go look at the view again? It might wake me up a bit."

"Be my guest." He helped her to her feet, and they walked back to the window hand in hand, her head resting against his shoulder. She stood infront of the glass, watching as lights flickered off in the distance. He wrapped his arms around her waist once more, holding her so closely to him that Sarah doubted there was any space between them at all. Sarah couldn't escape the niggling question that she had wanted to ask all evening, about why he had never come back to her. Her birthday was almost over, and she was terrified he would vanish again. If it happened again, she wasn't sure what she would do. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

"Have you enjoyed your birthday, precious?" He whispered into her ear, his fingers stroking her waist delicately. The gloves were still on, and Sarah wondered if he ever took them off.

"I did." She said, sighing happily, nestling closer to him.

"I'm glad."

"Jareth, I need to ask you something."

"More questions, darling?" His endearments were getting more frequent, and darling was a new one she rather liked.

"Just one. It's important." She took a deep breath, knowing that now probably wasn't the best time. It could spoil everything. "Why did you wait so long to come back to me? Why have you done this for me?" Sarah blurted out. "You haven't seen me for years, and all of a sudden you turn up and do all these nice things for me. It feels like a trick."

"I thought having nice things was part of birthdays." Jareth said, stepping back from her. She turned around to face him, and he looked angry. It reminded her of being a kid again, and she hated it. Fearing him was not enjoyable in the least. "If you have a problem, I can always take you home." His voice was hard, taunting, and it frightened Sarah a little that he could turn so quickly. He was unpredictable, and she wondered if his friendliness was an act.

"You know that isn't what I meant." Sarah said hotly, wishing she'd never opened her mouth. "You never came back." She said quietly. "I waited for you to appear again but you never came to see me again. Why?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask me that question," he murmered, burying his face in the top of her head. His words were muffled, and Sarah struggled to hear him. "I was waiting for the right time." He said simply, peppering more kisses onto her hair. He moved back so she could hear him more clearly. "There were things that had to to be done, things I had to correct within my own mind. I was unsure if you would want me in your life, and I wanted to find out only when I knew I was worthy of trying."

"I wanted you to be my friend. Maybe something else. I had dreams about you all the time, I still do. I even called for you once, and you didn't come. I guess you didn't hear me."

"I heard." Sarah felt a flare of anger in her stomach and she stared at him in disbelief.

"You heard?" The night Sarah had called for him was about a year ago, when everything had gone sour at home. She'd had a terrible argument with her father, who had cut her off financially and was threatening to stop her seeing Toby. Then, when she'd called her mother for help she was told by Jeremy that she would have to sort herself out. Things had looked inescapably bleak, and Sarah was once again desperate for a friend. More than a friend. "You heard me and you didn't come?"

"I saw your struggle, Sarah. I watched you drop out of school and argue with your father. I wanted to intervene, but the time wasn't right." Jareth explained, gripping her hand tightly. "There was enough going on in your life without me appearing again and making things even more complicated for you. You needed a shoulder to cry on, not someone who would make things muddled." Sarah wondered what he meant, and continued to question him.

"Did you miss me?" She asked quietly, feeling about two inches small. "Did you think about me at all?"

"I thought of you constantly. To the point of distraction, in fact. But I knew that my decision was the right one; I am not so selfish that I would come to you when you are uncertain of your life. I had to wait."

"Didn't it occur to you that that might be when I need you the most? When things are tough?"

"It did." He concluded. "But I thought it might..cloud things." He stopped speaking, choosing his words carefully. "I thought perhaps it was for the best."

"For the best? Did you not want to know me?" Sarah willled herself not to cry. She knew asking these questions would spoil the blissful evening, and she wondered if she'd done it on purpose to sabotage her own happiness. What a stupid girl she was. Jareth gripped her arms and stared into her eyes. When he spoke, his words were so full of passion that it caught her off guard.

"Oh, I wanted to know you, Sarah. I wanted to know everything about you, every detail of your face, how you look while you sleep, how my name would sound on your lips in the heat of passion, everything." Sarah watched him, saying nothing. He spoke slowly, deliberately, and she was reminded of how he had spoken to her all those years ago. This time, it burned with sincerity rather than a need to overpower her. "You rejected me once, and it stung. Hell, it broke me for a while."

"I was fifteen! You had just kidnapped my brother and fed me a drugged peach, what was I supposed to do? Swoon at your feet? I'd never even been kissed and I had some guy in tight pants telling me that I had to love him, and fear him! I didn't want to fear anyone, I still don't. I didn't know you, and you expected me to stay in a strange land and be your puppet!"

"Not my puppet. My equal. I would have given you all of me, everything you could desire. I know I can be cold, Sarah. I can be cold, selfish, demanding. I'm aware of my faults, but I am too old to change. I like to think I can be other things too. I can be generous - truly generous, before you correct me like you did in your prattling speech." Sarah stayed silent, listening to everything he had to say. "Perhaps I phrased my proposition to you incorrectly. I can be kind when I want to be. I would be a good man to you, a good husband. But I am not a glutton for punishment. However much I thought of you, I had no desire to expose myself to rejection again. That night we spent together when you were homesick, it made me see that what I'd felt before wasn't love, it was a lust for power over you. Sitting talking to you for hours made me see the person you truly are, the person I didn't know."

"I wasn't what you wanted anymore." Sarah said quietly, feeling as though she might cry any second. "It was the fantasy you wanted, the girl who defied you. When I was myself, you saw that I was just an ordinary girl.."

Sarah realised that she hadn't objected to the idea of marrying Jareth, something that surprised her. This was all moving so fast, the pace of their evening alternating between flirtatious mockery to conversation about how he had wanted to marry her..it was too much.

"No!" Jareth shouted, shocking her. "No, you are no ordinary girl Sarah. I finally realised that I had been infatuated with the idea of you. My rage at you defeating me consumed me, and I thought of nothing else but how to get you back. I'm used to getting what I wanted. When I sat down and made the effort to know you, the real you, it was something quite different. My feelings for you were different. It wasn't blind infatuation any more, the anger I had felt when you rejected me faded away." He paused to consider his words. "It was love - pure love. If you rejected me again after that, I'm not sure that I could have withstanded it. It wouldn't have just been my pride that you wounded, but my soul. I don't love easily, Sarah. In all my life I don't think I've even told my mother that I love her. In the interest of self preservation, I decided that I would wait. Wait until I stopped thinking of you, or wait until you needed me."

"Then why did you.." Before she could finish, Jareth interrupted her.

"You know very well why I appeared on that bridge today, Sarah. Your wish brought me to you, I had no control over it. I was in the middle of a meeting with some Elvish diplomats sent by my sister, it was a little embarrassing really."

"It wasn't a real wish. I was talking to myself, that's all. I didn't know you'd be listening."

"You really should take more care with your words, Sarah. I would have thought your lesson would be learned by now. You wished that somebody loved you enough to spend your birthday with you. I was pulled to your side with magic beyond my control. As the Champion of my Labyrinth, we are indelibly linked together by it's power. The Labyrinth heard your words, it knew my feelings for you, and here we are."

"So you really do.."

"Love you. I thought I'd made that quite clear by now, sweet girl." He took a breath, resigned to his fate. "Yes, I suppose I do. Like a fool."

"Not a fool." Sarah mumbled. The atmosphere between them was thick with something unknown to her, all she knew was that her heart was hammering against her rib cage and she felt as though she could pass out at any moment. "My fool."

She stepped closer to him, closing the gap that had formed between them. He watched her silently, not moving and hardly daring to breathe. She reached the height of his chest, and she leant her head up so she could see him properly. Her arms found their way around his waist, and she took his hand. Slowly and tenderly, she removed his glove, concentrating as she peeled the leather away. When his hand was free, she raised it to her lips and kissed his knuckles, closing her eyes and moving his hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes at the feeling of his bare hand on her skin, his fingers feeling warm and pleasantly clammy. It reminded her that even though he was some magical King, he wasn't perfect. Even Kings got sweaty hands when they wore leather gloves all the time. His thumb stroked her face lazily, and he didn't take his eyes off of her.

"I can't say I love you, Jareth." She felt his hand begin to move away, but she kept it there by placing her own hand over his. "I've seen you twice in six years. I can't say I love you, but I know that when you weren't in my life I wasn't happy. I missed you, I ached for you. I wanted you to come back to me more than anything, and I didn't even know why. I know that standing here right now with you is the best possible way I could have spent my birthday."

"I'm glad." He said, his voice soft again. "I wanted to make you happy, even if it was just for one night. My sweet Sarah."

"Just for one night?"

"I wasn't sure if you would.."

"No." She said quickly, interrupting him, and he looked wounded. "No, I don't mean that. I mean..Don't go away again. Don't leave me. I want to take things slowly, but I don't know what will happen, I just know that if you went away again with no explanation.."

"Don't worry, precious. You're stuck with me now. As long as you want me, I'll be by your side. On your terms, of course." Sarah was glad that he understood how she wished things to progressed. "I will be your slave." She chuckled at that, burying her face in his chest, her face touching bare skin where his shirt was open, the cold metal of the amulet he always wore against her cheek.

He caught her chin in his hand and moved her face away from his chest. She looked up at him, breathless with anticipation. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. He kissed her slowly, savoring every second. He had waited for so long to finally have her lips against his, and he wasn't going to waste a second.

The kiss continued for what felt like hours, as they tentatively explored each other. Just as Jareth was kissing behind her ear, Sarah heard Big Ben strike one somewhere in the distance. She pulled away from him, and he looked at her worriedly.

"It's one in the morning Jareth.." She said, slightly breathless. Jareth looked at her in wonderment; her pink lips were swollen from the intensitiy of his kisses and she was flushed a beautiful shade of pink. That was his favourite colour, he decided. "I should go before my mom gets worried." She never wanted to leave this room, never wanted to pull away from this kiss, but her mind was telling her that it would be irresponsible to do so.

To her surprise, Jareth made no protestations, merely placing a final kiss on her lips. "As you wish, my love." Holding out his arm for her, she took it gingerly, knowing that it would mean the night was over. "Close your eyes."

"Wait, my coat, my flowers." She reminded him, and she ran to get them. "Okay, ready." She took his arm again, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The feeling of flying was nothing compared to the feeling of being with Jareth, she decided.

When her feet touched the ground, she opened her eyes. They were on the corner of the street where her mother lived. Sarah stood in front of Jareth, reluctant to say goodnight. He had promised her that she would see him again, and she wanted desperately to believe him.

"I have a final gift for you, my love." He twisted his hands together, and Sarah watched closely as a crystal appeared between his finger tips. She hadn't seen him do that since her time in the Labyrinth, and now she knew he wasn't going to kill her, she found it weirdly sexy. He held the crystal out for her and she took it hesitantly.

"What is it?" She asked, staring into it. Before her eyes, it transformed into a scroll. "A piece of paper?"

"No ordinary piece of paper. Simply write on that when you wish to see me, and it will enter the date into my state diary. That way, I shall always have time to see you and it will allow me to schedule my royal duties around you. You can call for me too, you know the words."

"Are you going to be in London for a while? I'm here for another two weeks."

"I shall be backwards and forwards at your command, sweetness." Sarah nodded, and she looked up the street to see her mother's flat in complete darkness. "I suppose we should say goodnight, Sarah."

"I don't want to go back there. I don't want to say goodnight." She said without thinking, and Jareth quirked an eyebrow at her. "I'm scared if I go to sleep, I'll wake up and realise that this was all some wonderful dream."

Jareth pulled her to him, and kissed her deeply. He caught her lip between her teeth and bit down gently. She squeaked in shock at the pleasant sting it caused and he released her.

"You can't feel pain in dreams." He explained, stroking her face fondly. "I assure you I am quite real."

"Where are you going to go now? Underground?"

"I suppose. I might go to my house up here for a while, just to feel close to you." Chelsea wasn't near here, but Sarah appreciated the sentiment. "Of course, you could always come with me." He said seductively in her ear, nibbling it gently, and Sarah shuddered with pleasure. "It's not far, and I promise all my stairs face the right way."

"Can I?" She thought for a moment. "I'm sleeping on the couch, though." She wanted to be close to him, in every way possible. Just..not yet.

"Nonsense." Sarah opened her mouth to argue with him, and he held up a hand to stop him. "I will sleep on the couch." Sarah grinned up at him, and he held out her arm to him.

"Wait, I need to call my mom first." She ran down to the payphone in the next street, and dug around in her purse for a 20p piece. Punching in her mom's number, she waited as the phone went through to the machine. She knew her mom wouldn't be home.

"Hey mom, it's Sarah. Just to let you know I'm staying at..a friend's house. And don't worry about missing my birthday. Turns out, I had a pretty great evening." She hung up the phone and looked through the glass to see Jareth waiting for her. Yes, she thought, this was a pretty great evening.


	6. Chapter 6

"I don't know why you insist on flying." Jareth said, as he watched Sarah pack her belongings into a suitcase. He sat cross legged on the bed, clad only in trousers. His feet and hands were bare, and Sarah looked up briefly, enjoying the sight of his lithe chest, naked save for his amulet. His hair was rough from sleeping, even more poofy than normal. "I could have you home in two seconds. You're just wasting twelve hours we could spend together."

"I've already paid for the flight." She told him for the thousandth time. She folded the starry dress she had worn on their first date and placed it carefully in the bag. That night seemed like years ago; she had spent every waking second with Jareth for the last two weeks. They had stayed at his house every night, just wanting to be near each other. He had kept to his word and slept on the couch, until Sarah had invited him into the bed. They hadn't gone all the way yet; Sarah was still insecure that he would leave her, and he had been determined to make her feel safe before they made that step. He had been surprisingly restrained, Sarah thought, and hadn't brought it up once.

"So? I've told you I will reimburse you if the airline will not. Just think of the things we could do in those twelve hours that are so much more pleasant than sitting in a metal box.." Sarah threw a (thankfully clean) pair of socks at him, and he threw them skilfully into the suitcase.

"I just want to do one thing the normal way. And it will create all kinds of problems if my passport isn't stamped on the way out. Immigration probably won't believe in magic when I come back and explain how I left the country without getting my passport stamped to say I was leaving."

"Fine, I suppose that is a valid point." Jareth admitted reluctantly. "Bureaucracy wins this time. Next time you wish to travel, just ask me. You needn't bother spending money on flights."

"I know. You'll come and see me when I'm over the jet lag right? I can be a bit of a bitch when I'm tired, you probably don't want to see that."

"When you're ready for me, dearest, just call for me. I'll be waiting."

Sarah placed the final few items in the bag, taking care to place the magical parchment he'd given her under clothes so it wouldn't get bent in transit. She had had no need to use it yet, as they were always together. He had hardly left her side for the last two weeks, except when she had asked him to. She wasn't used to being with someone for such a long time, and every now and then she took herself off and had a long bath to decompress. He was respectful of her need for space, something that had surprised her at first.

"I need to call my dad to make sure he's still okay to come pick me up." She got up, stretching after being bent down on the floor for so long packing. "I'll be back in a minute." She had been surprised to find that Jareth had a telephone in his house; she wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but his house was beautiful and surprisingly full of modern technology. The walls were cream, the rooms bright and airy. The whole house was subtly decorated in a minimalist fashion, and above all else it was spotlessly clean. No goblins were allowed into his Aboveground residence, he had told her, and that made all the difference to the level of sanitation. When she had questioned him about the decor, he had told her that his castle was so dark and dreary that he craved lightness when he was away from it.

She looked at the clock above the telephone (thankfully a mortal clock, all the others in the house had a "13" on them and were set to Underground time to allow Jareth to keep track) to work out the time difference between England and the States. It would be about noon there, so she dialed the number to her dad's office.

"Robert Williams."

"Hey Dad, it's Sarah.."

"Sarah, I'm glad you called. I've had your mother on the phone several times, saying that you've been gallivanting around town with some man, you haven't been home and she doesn't know where you're living or how to contact you..she said she saw you for ten seconds when you picked up your stuff and you wouldn't tell her anything. What the hell is going on?"

"Um, nothing. I just got in touch with an old friend and I thought it would be easier on Mom and Jeremy if I didn't stay there anymore." Sarah said defensively, hoping Jareth didn't hear her call him a 'friend'..or old. "Mom was hardly there anyway, I don't get what her problem is."

"I think it's most irresponsible Sarah. I had hoped you were going to use your time in London to sort out your life, maybe work on that novel you've told me is going to solve all your problems and it seems to me that you've just been wasting time and drifting with no direction."

"I'm on vacation." She said in a small voice, hating how her father could completely kill her good mood.

"Vacation from what? Really Sarah, it's just downright immature of you. When you get back tomorrow, we are having a long conversation about your future. It's time you knuckled down and grew up a bit. You're not a little kid anymore, Sarah. I'm done giving you money, your mother says she is too. I'm thinking about asking you to leave the apartment too." Sarah had been living in a small apartment that had once belonged to Irene, rent free, for the past year.

"Fine!" She spat down the phone. "I didn't ask you for your stupid money. Don't bother picking me up tomorrow, I'll find my own way back. I'll be out of the apartment by Monday." Slamming the receiver down, she screamed in frustration, trying to ignore the painful lump in her throat. She sank down against the walls, eyes closed in a vague attempt to stop the tears gathering in her eyes from falling down her cheeks. She felt arms wrap around her, and she leaned against his shoulder, trying to stifle a sob.

"Did you hear that?" She mumbled thickly into his shoulder.

"No, precious. I heard you scream from upstairs, I was worried you were injured." He cradled her in his arms, rearranging her so she was basically sitting on his lap. "Your father?"

"He's cut me off, he wants me out of the apartment, my mom's angry with me for disappearing with you..it's a mess. I've been too busy kidding myself that my life could be great, I've been hiding from all my problems."

"Tell me about them, darling. A problem shared, after all." Jareth probed her gently, and she shook her head.

"I've already told you." She shrugged, thinking of all the times they had stayed up all night talking.

"No, you brushed over them. I didn't realise things had gotten this bad, I thought you'd made up with your father. Talk to me, beautiful girl. Everything you're worried about, even the mildest concern." She said nothing, and Jareth poked her shoulder gently. "Your problems, Sarah. I want to hear them."

They sat on the floor in a tangled heap as Sarah told him everything that had been on her mind; her fractured relationship with her father, her dire financial situation, her lack of college degree but mountain of student debt, her fears that she would be banned from seeing Toby, the fact that she had nowhere to live and nobody to turn to. At her words, Jareth raised her face to look at him.

"Nobody to turn to? My love, I'm a little hurt." His voice was soft, sincere, and his eyes were creased in a frown. She blinked at him. "Surely you've realised by now that I'm here for you no matter what? I've waited for you for so long I'm hardly going to ship out at the first sign of trouble."

"I- I didn't think you'd want the burden."

"Sarah, if I haven't made it perfectly clear already, I love you." She bristled a little at his tone; she still hadn't said it back, believing it was far too soon for her to truly mean the words. He hadn't pressed her, but she knew he was desperate to hear her say them back. "As you pointed out on your birthday, love means sticking around for the tough stuff. I want to make you happy. I want to keep you safe from harm and I most certainly do not want you sleeping on the streets."

"So what would I do?" She asked tentatively.

"It's up to you - you could stay here in London and live here. I do not think it's the correct time for you to come Underground with me, but I would be here as often as I could. If you wished to become more..serious, in the future, then there will always be a place for you in the Goblin City, but not yet. I would come home to you every night, if you wanted. You could write your stories here, and I happen to know a fair few people in publishing that owe me some favours."

"I don't want to be published because of a favour owed to you." She said sharply, stiffening a little in his arms. He chuckled, stroking her hair. "It's not funny. I'm not using you to get a book deal, it's not how I want to do things."

"You're right, precious. But getting them to look over your manuscript wouldn't do any harm, surely? Perhaps you could get a job in publishing whilst you write your own book."

"I guess. But staying in London..I'm not sure." She admitted, thinking of missing Toby growing up. She knew she was being stupid; for a start, she wasn't sure her father would approve of her seeing her little brother at all, and she knew that Jareth would send her there as and when she pleased.

"If you wish to return to America, I suppose I could add to my property portfolio and acquire somewhere for us to live there. I would prefer to live in a city, precious, rather than that little town you're from. I get a little stir crazy if things are too quiet."

"You'd do that for me? You'd spend all that money just so we could be together?" Sarah felt like she was in a dream. She shook her head. "I don't want to take your money. I can survive on my own. I just need to go home, get a job, find a new place.." Jareth rolled his eyes at her stubbornness.

"Sarah, I have no real need for money. I could do everything with magic, but I like being above board when it comes to my property, it makes it harder for people to take it away. I have more money than I could possibly spend, and if I want to use a tiny fraction of it to buy somewhere you can live, let me."

"I don't want to be dependent on you." She said clearly. "I need to stand on my own two feet."

"Then look at yourself as a tenant in my property. If you really want to, you can pay me rent, but as I'll be there every second I can manage, I see no point."

"I don't know if there's any point going back to America. What about a visa though? If I want to work here, I have to be living here legally or I'll get in trouble."

"Don't worry about it." Jareth said easily, kissing the top of her head. She glared up at him.

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"I will sort your visa out, precious. Trust me. Everything will be fine. Just let me know what you want to do, and I'll be right there with you."

"Can I think about it? I'm not going to catch my flight, I'll call the airline in a while. I still have a few months left on my tourist visa, I should be alright as long as I don't work."

"Take your time." Jareth sighed, and kissed her on the lips gently. He pressed his forehead to hers, running his thumb over her lips. "I hate to do this Sarah, but I have to go for a few hours. Whilst you were on the phone I received a summons. I've been rather neglecting things, and I should take some time to sort things out so I still have a Kingdom. Will you be alright here?"

Sarah nodded, rolling off of him and onto the floor. She wondered why he never offered to take her Underground, but she didn't like to press the issue, especially when he had been so kind to her. It had only been two weeks, after all, but they had been spending so much time wrapped up in one another that she could hardly remember a time when they had not been together.

"Sure. I think I'm going to do some writing. Oh! I just realised all my stuff is still in Irene's apartment, I need to get it out before they donate it all to Goodwill or something. I need to call my dad and tell him I'm not coming home, maybe if I send him some money he can ship my stuff to me.." She was starting to panic, and Jareth ssh-ed her gently.

"All in good time, precious. Don't phone him now love, you'll just upset yourself. Use my office to write in, you'll find everything you need in there." He helped her to her feet, and pulled her close to him. "Never think you're a burden to me again Sarah. I told you - I would rearrange the universe just so you would love me."

She knew she should tell him that she loved him, and end his misery.

She said nothing.

Sarah wrote until the sky outside was pitch black and her hand cramped painfully. She sat back in her chair and looked at the stack of papers that rested on the side of the desk. She had started a new story, and it had flowed out of her uncontrollably. She quickly counted the pages; fifty pieces of paper, covered front and back in her small, spidery hand writing. No wonder her hand ached. She would need to get a typewriter or a word processor and copy it all out if she was going to attempt to show it to anyone, but she was glad to be back in the groove of writing. She hadn't done any for the last two weeks, being too consumed in Jareth to even consider her work.

It was as if he had given her renewed energy, and her writing seemed to be much more natural. As she browsed through the pages, she realised she had essentially been writing her own story. This was not unusual for her; goblins and magical creatures had been a part of her work for a long time. This piece was different; it was a love story. Her love story.

Out of nowhere, Jareth appeared next to her with a crash of thunder so loud that Sarah fell off the chair with shock.

"What the hell Jareth?!" She asked him angrily, picking herself up off the floor. "You couldn't use the front door like a normal person?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just had a hell of a day." Sarah looked at him carefully; he had dark circles under his eyes and he looked as though he would drop with exhaustion right there. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He held her closely, kissing her hair and murmuring his thanks into the top of her head.

"What happened?"

"Idiots wasting my time." He said bitterly. "My sister has been stirring trouble. She's pregnant, by some miracle, and she's demanding that her unborn child be named heir to my Kingdom. The goblins aren't fond of the elves, and to name a half elvish child as my heir would cause chaos. It simply will not happen."

"Can't you just tell her no?" Sarah asked - if Jareth was King,surely it was his right to name his own Heir.

"As she pointed out, I have no heir, no wife and no consort." Sarah felt a sting of annoyance. "They do not know about you, Sarah. There are reasons I will not allow you Underground, not until you're ready. There are reasons I was reluctant to share your bed at first. I believe if I allow my sister this, she will stop at nothing to assassinate me and put her child on the throne. But you are not ready."

"Ready for what?" Jareth sighed, kneading his forehead. He didn't answer her, and Sarah got impatient. "Shouldn't it be up to me whether I'm ready or not? Tell me."

"Have you not wondered why I have not pressed you to..engage in physical activities with me, Sarah?" He asked her, his voice soft. "Why I have shared your bed night after night, touched you endlessly but not pushed any further?"

"I just thought.." Sarah wasn't sure what she had thought; that he was waiting for her to be comfortable, taking it slowly..maybe even that he had not found her attractive enough.

"That I did not desire you?" He laughed bitterly. "It has been all I could do to restrain myself. I believe I told you of how you could become a Fae, and it would involve the wedding night. The truth is, if I made love to you now, my strong feelings for you would trigger the transformation process whether we were married or not. It wouldn't be instant, but it would start to take you over, and I would be required to repeat the..action fairly often or you would die. If we consummated our relationship and it didn't work out and you left me, you would die quickly. I don't want to force you to be with me. And if I took you Underground, you would be vulnerable as a human. I have enemies, Sarah, and I would not expose you to them if you had no magic to protect yourself."

"So if we..did it," she said, rather unromantically. "I would begin to become Fae straight away?"

"Slowly, yes. I doubt you'd notice it for a year or two, but the magic would be within you."

"Does that happen to any woman you sleep with?" She asked suspiciously. He shook his head, irritated she would even ask.

"You are my chosen mate." He told her quietly, admitting what he had always known to her. "I am bound to you, and my magic would consume you."

"If I was Fae, would that mean we would have difficulty conceiving?"

"Not if we tried in the next thirty or so years. Your body clock would function normally, until the time you would reach menopause, but you would not age. It's confusing, I'm not sure I understand it myself, but I have consulted physicians about it."

"Do you need an heir quickly?"

"No. I have no wish to force you to be my wife, Sarah, not before you're ready. I didn't want to burden you with any of this. I could name a cousin heir in the interim, that would cause a few problems but I'm confident I could sort things out with my father, he's the one who still has a level of control over Juturna."

"This is a lot to take in."

"I know, dearest. I wished to keep this away from you for longer, so we could just enjoy each other, but it is becoming rather a pressing matter. There is no pressure on you, there are other arrangements I can make. I wish you to have the choice."

"So, if we..had sex."

"Made love, Sarah." He corrected her. "Let's try and keep a little romance, shall we?"

"If we made love, would we have to get married straight away? Can I be Fae before I'm married to you, will people judge me?"

"We wouldn't 'have' to do anything. If you had no desire to marry me, we could continue the process until it was complete and you could leave." She shook her head at the idea, and he smiled happily. "There is nothing I want more than to call you my wife, beloved. But as I've said, it has only been two weeks. And no, nobody will judge you for sleeping with me before our wedding. I have heard I can be quite irresistible."

"If you were made of chocolate, you'd eat yourself." She rolled her eyes. "Could we stay Above and live like we planned?"

"You certainly would have to stay up here, at least until we were formally betrothed and your powers begin to develop. I would come home to you every night, just like I said." He stroked her hair fondly. "I love you so much, my sweet thing. I wish things were easier."

"I love you too, Jareth." She said, and his face broke in to the widest smile she had ever seen.

"You've made me so very happy Sarah." He kissed her deeply, holding her so closely and so tightly she felt as though she would shatter. She broke away from his kiss, and whispered in his ear.

"Take me to bed, my King."


End file.
